


Meant to Be

by edibleflowers



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 09:20:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris pines. JC attempts to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meant to Be

**Author's Note:**

> for Wax's [Autumn Songfic Challenge](http://www.waxjism.org/challenge.html). Lyrics are from 'N Sync's "Girlfriend" and are used without permission.

He heard Justin say it to Britney -- "Would you be my girlfriend?" -- over a cellphone, not the best way to ask, but it wasn't like they saw each other that often, and Justin and Britney had been spending time together when they could, and he knew it was coming, it was just bad luck that he happened to come out into the kitchen area of the bus at the exact moment that Justin asked it.

After a moment, Justin's face lit up, bright as the summer sun, and his eyes flicked to Chris, his whole body buzzing. Chris stood there numbly and watched him finish the conversation, and dazedly wondered why he'd seen it coming and hadn't prepared himself for the inevitability: Justin would go out with Britney, the pop prince and princess, and Chris would watch, from the sidelines, as they mirrored each other in shining beauty.

Justin hung up the phone and crowed -- "Yes!" -- getting up to dance in the aisle, then wrapping an arm around Chris's waist and tugging him in a circle. "She said yes!" he grinned, releasing Chris with a quick press of lips to the forehead, then heading in to the back, probably to wake the others up with his news. Chris had a feeling they'd be as thrilled as he himself was, if for different reasons.

He sank into the tiny booth and put his head down on the table. At some point, he felt a warm hand on his back, rubbing between his shoulderblades, and he heard Joey's voice murmur a soft apology, but he didn't respond. He didn't want to move, or think, or really do much of anything for a while.

* * *

"You didn't really think you ever had a chance with him, did you?" JC said later, when they were sitting together in the dressing room while Justin, at the other end of the room, got fitted for a new shirt. They kept their voices down, though it didn't really matter because Justin was singing to himself, his attention anywhere but on the others in the room.

Chris stared at his knees and didn't answer.

"Come on." JC leaned over, nudged Chris's shoulder. "You know he's terminally straight."

Chris was having a hard time mustering a comeback for that. He crossed one leg over the other knee, picked at a loose piece of rubber on his sneaker with bitten-to-the-quick nails.

"I don't know why you care," JC muttered, giving Chris a sidelong glance before looking up at Justin again, whose arms were held out at his sides now; he was flirting with the dresser, his eyes flashing with good humor, and Chris felt his heart squeeze. "He doesn't even know you're there, half the time. Sure, he follows you around like a puppy the other half--"

"All right, already," Chris said, and got up, buzzing with nervous energy. Maybe he could go chase Joey around for a while. Anything, as long as he could get JC off his back.

* * *

"Be happy for me, man."

"I am happy for you, Jup."

"Then show it."

Chris gave Justin a half-hearted glare, then went back to flipping through channels. He'd propped himself up against his headboard, while Justin, who'd just barged in, lay flopped horizontally across the other bed, on his stomach with his chin on his arms. Chris ignored the pouty, sullen look on Justin's face. Justin had been soaring for approximately twenty-four hours now, and not even the fact -- pointed out by a tired Johnny -- that he would have to keep the relationship under tight wraps had managed to bring him down.

"I'm happy for you, Justin," Chris said, thumb moving faster on the remote. "I am, in fact, incredibly overwhelmed by the amount of happiness I have for you at this moment. If you tried to measure it, you'd need a measuring cup the size of--"

"A'ight, a'ight," Justin said, scowling, and turned his head to watch the flickering television screen. "You just don't seem happy."

Chris shook his head, making braids tremble around his face. He pushed them out of his eyes again and thought, not for the first or even the hundredth time, about cutting them off. "It's not about you," he said. "Not everything's about you, kid."

"Are you, like, upset 'cause, you know, you, uh. Don'thaveagirlfriend?" Justin blurted, and Chris turned slowly, one eyebrow raised, just looking at Justin. Justin ducked his head apologetically. "Well, you know, I haven't seen you go out on a date in a long time, and like, I know you bring girls back sometimes, but it's been a while, and-- I'll shut up now," he interrupted himself.

Chris sighed and stared at the TV again. After a while, Justin got up and left, mumbling something about wanting to call Britney.

He fell asleep on top of the bedspread, and at some point in the middle of the night, he vaguely registered the sound of the door opening, someone pulling off his shirt and jeans and tucking him under the covers; the feel of cool lips on his forehead made him try to struggle into wakefulness, but then the room was dark, the door snicking shut again, and Chris sank back into sleep.

* * *

He looked at the others suspiciously the next morning as they piled into a van, heading to a radio show, but none of them looked any different or gave him unusual looks. He noogied Justin anyway, making him laugh and push at Chris, and Joey chuckled as he wrapped an arm around Lance's shoulders; so they all thought he was dealing fine, and he didn't really want to disillusion them.

The next time Britney came to visit, Chris forced himself to watch Justin with her, hoping to shock his system into acceptance. It wasn't easy, but he made himself joke and be normal -- well, his version of normal anyway -- and after a while, it almost felt like the real thing.

They'd had a pool party, and as night fell, JC came and sat down next to Chris on the lounger, his skin cool from the water, his trunks still wet, hair slicked against his skull; it reminded Chris a little of the Caesar cut JC had once sported. JC watched him with serious, saturnine eyes. "You seem to be dealing okay," he said.

Chris shrugged. "Not a lot I can do," he said, drawing his knees up, and JC grabbed his hand, yanking Chris off the lounger and into the pool before he could yelp a protest. Chris came up spluttering, half-choked and threatening JC with blistering shouts. JC stood on the edge of the pool giggling at him, so he wrapped his hands around JC's ankles and pulled him into the water by way of revenge.

* * *

So he started dating Dani, which was more of a front than anything, but she was nice and funny and distracting, and he liked her so much that he found it didn't really bother him when Justin and Britney announced their relationship to the world. And when Dani broke up with him, he really was genuinely distraught. He found himself making stupid comments about dating Lance, and getting in fights with strangers in bars, and when JC shouldered him for a limping walk back to the hotel, Chris thought vaguely about how warm JC was, and how pretty he was becoming lately.

While they were shooting the video for "That's the Way Love Goes", Lance gave him a kick under the table, and he jumped, startled out of his peaceful contemplation of JC, who, seated on the stairs, was singing, emoting for the camera.

"You should ask him out," Lance said softly, too low for anyone else to pick up. Chris arched an eyebrow at him, bore him down under a sharp gaze, but Lance regarded him with cool indifference and went back to his cards.

"Me ask JC out?" Chris said later, when they were jogging to the limos after the shoot. "You're out of your mind."

"You like him. He likes you."

"Bullshit. Besides, what about Bobbie?"

"What about Dani? I can't believe the word 'beard' has no meaning to you."

Chris fucking hated it when people besides him were right.

* * *

He came across JC later in Justin's room. Justin was off doing something with Britney -- not that Chris had been looking for him, of course not -- and JC was sprawled on one of the twin beds, dozing.

"Justin's not here," he mumbled when Chris sat down on the bed.

"I know that," Chris said. "Why does everyone still think I have a thing for him?"

"Sorry," JC said, and pushed himself up, leaning on his elbows. His hair was tangled and messy, and Chris had a sudden urge to put a hand in it.

"I was wondering," Chris said, staring at his hands instead, "if you wanted to do something."

"You guys going clubbing?"

"No, or. I mean, Joey and Lance probably are, but I was thinking, like, just the two of us. You and me," he added, "I mean. And yeah, just tell me to shut up now, because I couldn't sound like a bigger idiot if I tried and I'll just go and hide my face in shame now--"

"Chris," JC said patiently.

Chris turned his head and looked at JC. He thought he should have been surprised to see the good humor in JC's eyes, but mostly he was just surprised that JC hadn't burst out laughing or cringed away in shock.

"I'd love to do something with you."

"Oh," Chris said. And then, "oh," because JC was moving a hand slowly up Chris's bare arm, a gentle press of fingers over his soft flesh, a caress that burned to the bone, sent shockwaves through Chris's body. JC leaned forward, eyes closing, long lashes curving in a sweet feminine droop over his high arching cheekbones, and when his lips met Chris's, langourous and sleek, the warm smooth neatness of them reminded Chris of a kiss pressed to his forehead months past.

"You," he said, and then JC was smiling against his mouth, pulling him closer, and Chris closed his eyes and opened his lips and let JC suck on his tongue.

It was altogether hot and much nastier than Chris would ever have expected of JC, but when JC was parting his thighs and pushing into him, erection hot and delicious and full inside him, Chris wasn't about to complain.

They got up afterwards, staggering down the hall to Chris's room so that Justin wouldn't bitch about finding them naked and fucking in his room, and when Chris collapsed, laughing, on top of JC, he relished the feeling of rightness, the warmth of JC's skin, the lean muscle wrapping delightfully around his own.

"How long?" he asked, later, after he'd taken his turn inside JC, and they lay under a sheet, his fingertips tracing lightly over JC's forehead, rubbing in his wild hair.

JC shrugged. "Probably as long as you had the thing for Justin."

"I didn't have a thing for him," Chris corrected sternly, and JC rolled his eyes.

"Whatever."

"I didn't."

"Okay, you didn't," JC said agreeably, petting Chris's hair.

"As long as we've got that clear." Chris snuggled down into JC's shoulder and tried to remember why he'd had the infatuation with Justin in the first place. Then he decided he didn't really care; as long as he could keep holding JC warm and close, it was all good.


End file.
